The days that started well
by atomic muffin
Summary: ...never stay that way. At least not when your name is Sawada Tsunayoshi. In which there are lunatics (more than usual) in ridiculous dark robes, Blood Dark Ritual Invocation that actually works (well... in a way) and one reluctant Vongola Decimo, obviously, right in the middle of the it. Or two, actually. Crackish.
1. Of demons and men

**The Days That Started Well**

..never stays that way. At least not when your name is Sawada Tsunayoshi. In wich there are lunatics (more than usual) in ridiculus dark robes, Blood Dark Ritual Invocation _that actually works_ (well... in a way) and the Vongola Decimo, obviously, right in the middle of it. Crackish.

 **Disclaimer** : If there were any doubts, Katekyo hitman Reborn isn't mine. Too bad. And I'm borrowing a character from Outan High School Host Club for a minor role, does that count as a crossover ?

 **Rating** : T. Just to be sure

 **Note** : This is crack for crack, don't expect big plot or anything. Besides, I'm not beta'ed and I'm not _that_ great at English (not my primary language), so I apologize in advance for any grammar error, or even crime you might found.

* * *

 **Chapter one : Of Demons and Men (And Reborn, who belong to a categorie of his own)**

.

Since Reborn had crashed into his blessfully normal life all this years ago (barely three, actually, but it does feel much more) and brought all the _completly insane crap_ with him, Sawada Tsunayoshi had learned many things. Like how to resolve an second degree equation, or to dodge bullets, wich was kinda related when you had The Greastest Hitman Ever as a tutor. Or how to make friends and keep them (from killing each other and themself), even from former enemies...especially from former enemies.

But, most of all, Tsuna had learned _relativity_. A necessary step when your ordinary looks like utter craziness to anyone half sane.

And, as Kurokawa Hana once pointed out, Tsuna and the "epic level crazy monkeys surrounding him" pushed the concept of impossibility to new horizons on a daily basis.

Therefore, on Post Reborn Tsuna's Scale of Improbality, from 1 (Lambo saying please) to 10 (Reborn asking on his knees for forgiveness for all this years of mistreatments and trauma.. not happening anytime soon), some lunatic asking for his blood in order to invoque a demon was barely scoring a 5. Though the guy did get point for originality. Nobody had asked for his help on a Dark and Mysterious Ritual before. That had to count for something.

* * *

Why did this kept on happening to him, anyway ? Here he was, taking a well-deserved break from his friends.. _.intensity_ , enjoying the day during which nothing had been broken yet and no disproportionate fight nor war gang started, when some random weirdo came ruining his breathing space with an(other) insane proposal. While Reborn was obviously enjoying the show from the sideline. Thanks god that none other member of his usual clique was there, because he doubted the room could hold any more craziness.

(Actually, the room would be just fine, just as Tsuna's house was still miracously standing after suffering far much worse treatment could prove. And there died the law of Insanity Level Confinement. The room was just a metaphore for himself, really.)

.

"Err...So, let me get this straight... basically, you want to become my subordonate, and serve me by summoning a demon who would fight for me, and you need my blood for the... ritual ?"

Nekosawa, as he had presented himself, self proclaimed invocator, nodded earnestly.

At that moment, Tsuna was thinking very hard of a polite way to decline the proposal. He should have think quicker.

"Of course, Tsuna would be _delight_ to participate in the...experimement."

No, Tsuna wouldn't, not now, not ever, but it was too late to stop this from happening. Reborn had find a way to enternain himself, and if someone on this Earth knew how to stop a bored Reborn, well, that person was certainly not Sawada Tsunayoshi.

And the guy, Nekosawa, was raising hopefull puppy eyes to Tsuna, who really couldn't bring himself to crash his hopes.

He wasn't ranked Least likely to refuse a request for nothing after all.

* * *

Funnily enough, despite the apparences, Nekosawa wasn't interested at all in becoming his subordinate, a mafioso even less.

However, the blood of the Vongola Decimo... that was worth the whole "becoming a part-time Mafioso" according to his books. Go figures.

Apparently, Nekosawa was the heir of a very old japonese family known for his enormous wealth, an unhealthy fear of the light and the inclinaison of his members for the darker side of the Force. Curses, Dark rituals whatsoever, eccentric clothes (a robe... dude, seriously) and general creepiness seemed to be the trademark of the Nekosawa Family.

Which bring us to the current issue : invocation. From what Tsuna had manage to understand of the weird young man lecture on the Noble Art of Invocation, none of the ritual attempted in the past few centuries had been actually successful. A shame that the Nekosawa heir was adamant (traduce by fanatically obsessed) on rectifying.

(Tsuna personally thought that if there were demons out there, he would largely prefer that they stay wherever they were, far, far away from him. One demon was hard enough to handle, thank you very much. Of course, at that exact moment, Reborn gratified him with hard kick on the knee, and _how the hell does he always know !?)_

Anyway, the sucession of failure, as Nekosawa eagerly explained in a very Lecturing-Gokudera kind of voice, didn't came from a lack of talent or formula, but from energy. Energy from blood, more precisly, to « attract and link » the demon in this realm, wathever that meant.

But not any blood would be efficient, no, a extraordinary stong blood was required.

(Tsuna had not a idea how blood could be strong, even less how could _his_ be, but knew better than to ask. The guy was enthusiast enough without encouragement. The Vongola heir hadn't deal with Gokudera for _years_ without learning a few things.)

And, according to Nekosawa researches, the blood best suited to achieve such a feat was Vongola Decimo's. Of course. Because that sort of shit couldn't happen to someone else, and the day had started _so well_...

(Revorn viciously hit him again, and Tsuna stopped freaking out. Or more exactly internalized the panic better)

Therefore, the satanist (?) came with a proposal for the Vongola : an alliance with his family, regardless of this actual resuts, in exchange of the collaboration of the Mafia Famiglia heir.

By crashing into school ground, at lunch time (thanks gods he had the sense at least not to come _during_ classes), wearing a robe so black it could probably absorb matter, and without warning of any sort. Riiight.

Tsuna knew goldfish with more social skills than this guy, and it was clearly saying something, knowing who his Family was. The comparison with his self proclaimed right hand man was getting closer and closer. Not that Tsuna was going to tell that to Hayato anytime soon. Ever.

* * *

"Now, if you would let us think about this, young...man", Reborn asked with that false sweet tone he used on harmless strangers."

(And wasn't that sentence hilarious coming from a apparently five-years old... Though Nekosawa didn't seemed to be fooled by Reborn child-like looks. Perhaps his obliviousness was confined to common social behavior territory. He wouldn't be the first touched by this particular affliction Tsuna met.)

"Of course ! Reborn-san, Decimo-sama, I will be waiting for your answer."

And then he was gone, and the atmosphere was sudently lighter, the sun was shining brighter, the sky bluer and...

Tsuna hardly even noticed because Reborn was _glaring_ _at him. Again._

(One could think the Vongola Decimo should be used to it by now...if one had never met Reborn.)

"The Nekosawa Family, Dame-Tsuna. One of wealthiest family in Japon. Until then managing to completely avoid Mafia influence. You can't let that pass, you idiotic student !"

"A demon, Reborn. A freaking demon !"

The tutor gratified him by a "please, Bitch" stare, accompagned in tandem by the ever classy eyebrow rise. Tsuna wished he had such coordination skills with his facial features.

"Are you seriously believing he's actually going to succed ?"

"No, but I didn't believe in time-travel either, and look where that got me !"

And now Reborn was rolling his eyes. With his 5 years old apparence, it was quite disturbing. Like watching some pre-preteenagers in action.

"Dame-Tsuna, if invocation was possible, _I_ _would know."_

(14-years old Tsuna may have believe that, because he was convinced Reborn was a mallevolent god or something. 16-years old Tsuna knew better than to think anyone was omniscient or omnipotent. Though he also knew better than to say it in front of his hellish tutor's face. Or say it at all, because one is never too cautious with The Greatest Hitman. Even _thinking_ was risky. Damn)

"I'm not doing this", Tsuna affirmed with more confidence than he actually felt. Not that it would fool Reborn, but it might _slightly_ impress him.

(One can dream, right ?)

"You are."

"I..I am not..!"

"You _are_ , and you're going to do it _with enthusiasm._ "

Life was unfair. Tsuna had fight (reluctantly) and defeated men so strong and evilish it was completely ridiculous, but he still wanted to shit his pants when his child-looking tutor gave him the glare-from-hell-so-dark-it-would-switch-off-the-sun.

That look made him feel like he hadn't grown up _at all_.

That, and the fact Leon had turned into his gun-form, with whom the reluctant heir was particulary (and painfully) aquainted with.

"B...But !"

"Not buts. You're not going to mess such a golden opportunity for the famiglia because you're a chicken scared of nerd teenagers in dark robes and false skulls. You're going, end of discussion."

As if there had been a discussion to begin with.

.

* * *

Note : And that's the end of chapter one. Hope you liked it !


	2. To succeed or not to succeed

Disclaimer : If there were any doubts, Katekyo hitman Reborn isn't mine. Too bad. And I'm borrowing a character from Outan High School Host Club for a minor role, does that count as a crossover ?

Rating : T. Just to be sure

Note : This is crack for crack, don't expect big plot or anything. Besides, I'm not beta'ed and I'm not _that_ great at English (not my primary language), so I apologize in advance for any grammar error, or even crime you might found.

* * *

Chapter 2 : To succed or to not succeed (or, in Nekosawa's case, both at the same time)

.

.

"Juuuudaime ! Let me go, you useless idiot ! Judaime could be in danger, I knew I shouldn't have left him alone !"

"Maaa, Tsuna is not alone, he's with Reborn, so he would be just fine ! And you're freaking out the otthers, Gokudera !"

They would be, if the spectacle of the silver-haired teenager almost exploding from inner tension, only restrained by the baseball ace wasn't a weekly one. This time, Yamamoto had manage to lock Gokudera by holding him from behind, and he had yet to light up his explosives, so the danger was reasonable. Honestly, this class had seen worse. _So much worse._

Kurokawa Hana sighed to herself. Sawada was late, and therefore their local arsonist was going rampage, and behind his usual cheerfull facade and calming reassurances to his friend, the baseball ace barely hid his own tension and worry. The young woman could smell an immitant Sawada Incident exploding anytime now if the brunet didn't make a apparition, safe and sound, for the next two minutes.

(And everyone with half a brain in this school knew Sawda Incident often tended to turn into Sawada Disasters, especially when his clique of dumbasses involved themself into it. Which was always.)

But there, here came the hero of day. Hallelujah. At this fortunate life-saving timing, Hana barely restrained a sigh of relief.

Tsuna stood at the entry of the classroom, looking utterly defeated and resigned. That in itself wasn't really surprising, since it entered in the Sawada's Faces top three, right under the Apologizing-one-I'm-so-sorry-about-my-friend-please-don't-call-the-police and the Confused/scared-one-I-don't-what's-happening-someone-help-me.

(Hana didn't knew, since she wasn't part his "clique", but Tsuna had _so many_ other faces. And his smiles, god, his smiles... Too bad for her.)

Anyway, point was, this morning Tsuna looked unusually cheerfull (well..for him), and he didn't anymore, which meant _something_ had happened during breaks, and whatever it was, this wasn't good for her and the class, no, the entire _school_.

Now, you may think Hana was over-reacting, but young woman had become an expert at Tsuna-watching, not for the pleasure of the view (no comment), but as some monitored the weather. If the teen seemed grim, you could be sure something dreadful was going to happen.

It. Worked. Every. Single. Time.

(She had yet to determine if Tsuna could just predict it or if he was a catalyst of the dramas. Probably both. Guess that's what happen when you befriend the most dangerous people in Namimori, and beyond.)

His followers (because Hana was so convinced some sort of cult was going on here) reacted to their gourou's arrival as they usually did. With inappropriated exuberance.

"Juudaime ! Are you okay ? This freak didn't bother you, did he ? ", the frantic juvenile delinquant that called himself Sawada's right arm for some unkown reason, asked Tsuna with overprotective concern. Typical.

(Hana might have puked a little in her mouth if she wasn't so used to this pathetic spectacle of grovelling.)

"Haha, Tsuna, I've heard from Sasagawa some cosplayer guy was seeking for you ? Are we going to change the Mafia Game to roleplay ? Could be fun ! Hey, I bet Gokudera could play a awesome dragon, what do you think ?"

(She turned a bit pale at the disastrous idea : what kind of idiot who think of giving more firepower to this lunatic ? Oh yeah...Yamamoto Takeshi, that's who.)

'Tsuna smiled weakly at the joined verbal assault. Looked like those two were able to accord themself on something after all.

"I'm..I'm fine, Gokudera-kun, and I've no idea what you're talking about, Yamamoto, but if you want to play roleplay, I guess we can do something about that...?"

Oh, looked like Tsuna was aiming for the plausible deniability. Smart move. The kid had learned form his mistakes.

Gokudera nearly collapsed with relief, and might actually have if Yamamoto wasn't here to hold him. Hana restrained herself from taking pictures of the scene; she knew girls who'd _kill_ for it. Or at least pay dearly.

"Haha, I'm okay ! So, who was that guy Tsuna ?", asked the baseball player sheepishly while releasing his prisoner. A very direct approach, his favorite.

Sawada laughed nervously without giving answer, casting a embarrassed glance to the rest of the class, shamelessly eavesdropping without even bothering to hide it. Which was a necessary skill not only for the gossip but also for survival purpose: Namimori students didn't hold on for long if they couldn't tell when to run to the closest exit door.

"Hey, baseball freak, stop harassing Judaime !", Gokudera barked like the good dog he was at his grinning friend, who expertly ignored the heated reprimand. The silverhaired would have probably resorted to violence as he usually did in those cases if not for the intervention of another unexpected party.

"Dame-Tsuna, what are you waiting for to tell your subordonate abut your new buisness partness ?", the weird kid who was stalking Sawada since a few years smirked, sitting casually as the king he thought himself to be on the brunet's desk.

The whole class flinched, and one of the most sensible girl almost backed out, because _where the hell did he came from ?_

"Re...Reborn ! Don't come out of nowhere !"

"Juudaime did ? Of course, it's just like him !"

"So we get a new friend ? Awesome !"

Oh no, did Sawada find _another_ weirdo to add to his harem of misfits and psychopathes ? This day was turning into a living _nightmare_.

"Dame-Tsuna, I've called Nekozawa, and everything is settle. You're going to his place tonight in order to...finalise the arrangements. Don't thank me."

At this declaration from his "tutor", or whatever the demonic child actually was, Sawada went so pale Hana worried he might have a stroke.

(Because the crazy monkeys were terrible enough with Tsuna keeping a tigher rein on them, and Hana didn't want to experience their reaction wihout their gourou operational.)

.

* * *

.

When came the end of the dreaded day, Tsuna had manage to gather enough spine to tell his tutor that there was no way in hell he was to going to that Haunted House Nekosawa probably lived in to participate into a satanic Ritual. And if Reborn still wanted him to, well he would have to drag him. At the end of his student's rehearsed little speech, Reborn frowned his eyes, then _smirked_.

"Alright."

And then procede to drag Tsuna to the car waiting for them throught pulling his hair. The journey to Nekosawa's place turned out _awkward_ , at least from the high school student, who kept on pouting while massaging his scalp. Reborn just acted like his usual coming-straight-from-Hell persona.

.

("Looks like that capillary forest you dare to call hair is good for something after all". That evil _bastard._ )

.

("Just so you know, the moment he speaks about sacrifincing a rooster, I'm getting out of here."

Reborn gratified Tsuna's declaration with one of his most irritating faces of fake uncomprehension.

"Why use a rooster when you can have a _virgin_ instead ?"

Tsuna almost suffocated under his tutor's mocking stare and wisely decided to stay silent for the rest of their journey.)

.

.

Despite Tsuna's expectations, the house Nekosawa had choosen as a provisory home was relatively...normal. If your definition of normal included a whole manor of three stories and a giant park with lake, swimming pools outdoors _and_ indoors and others mundane niceties. However, the manor was remarkable when you knew his owner for his complete lack of exuberants towers, gargoyles, not even one small graveyard.

(Tsuna was kind of disappointed. Though one would have to resort to torture to make him admit it.)

Fortunatly, the young heir largely caught himself up widely for the decoration of his quarters. Tsuna had no idea so many velvet curtains could be put in a room without any windows.

The Vongola Heir qiuckly came to the conclusion that Nekosawa may had plenty of faults, such as a disastrous fashion sens, even by Tsuna's rather lax criteria, or abyssal social skills, but boy did he knew how to settle the mood. At least, when the mood was meant to be dark, creepy and frightening. The high school student doubted his talents exended to social niceties, or, god forbid, _parties._

(Tsuna wondered how Nekosawa reacted when confronted to terrible things like _pink_ or _cuteness._ And he wanted to _test_ it so much it almost _itched_. He probably had one of his guardian to thanks for that, but, for the life of him, he couldn't tell which one to blame for rubbing off him. Maybe it was a common effort. And wouldn't that be a first.)

Reborn was marching among false skelletons (at least Tsuna _hoped_ they were..false, that's it), creepy puppets and stuffed cats (and...wait, was that an _actual_ altar _?_ ) like he owned the place, which was his attitude per default, no matter where they were. To tell the truth, Tsuna had yet to see Reborn really uncomfortable.

(But he would so _kill_ to see that at least once in his life.)

Himself, on the other hand was a mess of drooling nerves. For the life of him, the Vongola heir had no idea how such a fine day what turned into a nighmare.

(Exept he did, for those improbable situations had kept on happening to him for the last few years. Just another day fallen under the tyranny of Sawada Tsunayoshi's Law of Screw Up Situation Attraction. And yes, such a thing totally did exist. There were no other explanations)

.

.

"Stop being such a wimp and strech out your arm already !", Reborn grumbled biliously, his tiny hand firmly holding what looked like a very big syringue from where the brunet was standing.

Tsuna unconsciously cringed, sinking into the black velvet armchair he had been confined in.

(Which was far better than the piked chair. What use could be found for a piked chair ? Forget that, some things really should stay unkonwn.)

"Fine. If you're so scared of one, small needle, I suppose we're gonna have to use that sacrificial blade after all. Better that way, Nekosawa was so disappointed to go against tradition..."

Down his fedora, Reborn smirked as Tsuna streched out his left arm so quicky he didn't even get to end his tirade. His student was so _predictable_.

The reluctant patient kept his head turned on the side, hardly containing a grimace while the hitman wraped a tourniquet with more strenght than necessary, disinfected his skin and punctured one of Tsuna's most prominent veins.

"Here there, see, no need to cause a scene, Dame-Tsuna.", Reborn shook the vial filled with his blood his front of his student's opened-wide eyes.

Tsuna felt like fainting. _Again_.

.

.

As Reborn was done taking a sample of blood big enough filled un entire lake, Nekosawa raid the hitman like a falcon on his prey.

(Not that Tsuna was implying Reborn could be considered a prey. No way.)

The novice invocator then poured the red liquid into a fine chiseled silver bowl (who used that nowaday ?) and eagerly began to trace with the blood what Tsuna suspected to be a summoning circle. Using. His. Fingers... Ugh.

"It's traditionnal.", Nekosawa explained, probably confusing Tsuna's horrified stare for one of curiosity.

Okaaay...Well, fresh blood delivered, mission accomplished, so now it was more than time to get the hell out of here, Tsuna vowed to himself.

.

.

By the time Nekosawa was done drawing gruesome doodles on the floor, burning enough incenses to intoxicate a hardcore hippy and lightening more candles than a church saw in a month, Tsuna still hadn't manage to get the hell out of here. Every escape attempt ultimatly failed : the negociation approach, the sneaking out ninja-bid, the run-for-your-life desesperate last resort. But Reborn was standing like a giant and impassable wall on the road to freedom and Emo-free world. A very big wall. With pikes. And artillery. And missiles. Probably an atomic bomb, or two, just in case. A Reborn-Wall.

(Which made absolutly no sense, unless you got to live Tsuna's life.)

Tsuna knew the moment his tutor had mimed a "Not on my watch, Dame-Tsuna." his slim chances droped to null and void.

Apparently completly oblivious to his mark guest's play of cats of mouses, Nekosawa, a ancient leather-binded book open in his left hand, let out a creepy but enthusiast "Let's begin !", which was the signal for Tsuna's guts to contort themselves with anxiety. Or dance the polka, go figures.

(Maybe they knew they were stuck on that ship to Hell : his intestines were bright like that.)

.

.

The Vongola heir thought Nekosawa's slimy voice was frightening enough already, but latin was the bloody cheery on a cake of creepy.

The room went colder as the summoner's call got louder, a chilling wind who came from nowhere blew the candles, and then...then...

.

.

"See ? _Nothing_ happened.", gloated Reborn, like evil gloating goat he was.

(...Shut up. Tsuna had a very bad day.)

At the tactless declaration, the pathetic cries in the background intensified. Tsuna sent a compasionate look at the whining prostrate bump of black clothes on the floor. Let's just say Nekosawa hadn't taken his failure well. Not that Reborn was going to care any time soon. Kicking a guy hen he's down never bothered him.

"Well, pleasure doing business with you, but it's getting late, and my student had _plenty_ of homework to do." The aforementioned student gulped. "But don't worry, we'll see each other _very soon_..."

And after delivering his last blow, proceeded to tow Tsuna to the car.

(He really needed to stop doing that. Honestly.)

.

.

So _nothing_? Ha ! You wish.


End file.
